Predestination
by Sarryn
Summary: A sacrifice has to be made in order to prevent complete destruction. One shot, dark ficcie. Contains character death/s. Carrot centric.


This is a one shot, dark ficcie. This whole story should be looked at more from an aesthetic point of view and not for what it implies. I encourage, and adore it, if you review as either comments on the story and its thematic elements or criticisms where it falls short. However, **I will not accept flames**. I say this under the assumption that you know the difference between flames and criticisms so I don't have to explain it. 

Why won't I tolerate flames? **1)** They tend to be immature and rather unfair attacks against the writer herself/himself and not the deeper meaning of the work, **2)** they reflect poorly upon the writer of them and make him/her sound, **3)** it's best not to dwell on material that you find repulsive, and flaming would merely prolong the agony, **4)** I will delete all flames, or write a humor story mocking them (it's up to you to decide which is worse) **5)** there is no real point in trying to point out my lack of a sense of morality, I won't listen. 

Contains character death/s.

Predestination

The lance slices through the air straight towards my heart. I watch it knowing I have the choice to remain rooted in its path and die or dodge it and live. To either side my fellow Sorcerer Hunters battle. My younger brother, Marron, holds his own against the sorcerer's constructs with unmatched skill. Tira Misu slashes the air with her leather whip and spinning thread. I just try not to get killed until the sorcerer finally throws an attack spell. Then, magic roaring through my veins, I become a nearly unstoppable force of destruction, a mere shadow of the darkness that lurks within my soul. 

I dodge the lance and it sails harmlessly into a wall. I'm alive and ready for a spell, any spell. The last of the man's metal constructs explode and Marron smiles slightly in triumph. Tira laughs and stands provocatively with one hand on her hip, whip dangling from one gloved hand. The sorcerer casts his spell, the spell that brings his end. 

I throw myself into the blast and lose all coherence to the power burning my blood. I'm in a safe place, a dark place, but not so dark as that one time; that time I almost didn't come back. Through a thousand layers of muscle and veins, I am aware of the carnage. Curled serenely in an ocean of no sensation, I feel a tug, then pain. The agony spreading in thin lines across my monstrous form builds a path back to consciousness. My mind breaks free and I am me again. 

The others are there with clothes and helping hands. I'm okay. I'm me. 

Big Mama has another mission for us. I ask her for a raise and she gives me her patented death glare. I hastily tell her I'm joking while I cower behind Marron and Tira. She smiles and all is right in the world. We are off on the hunt. The next target is close: only an hour's walk away.

We set off. Our feet move, our mouths move. Tira's mallet moves towards my head. I'm in a dream, except it's real and solid and will most likely kill someone. The path turns from paved to dirt to a line of flattened detritus. The trees become scarred and warped monsters of wood, all quite dead. It's hideous, unnatural, and we're walking deeper into it.

We arrive at an ostentatious castle of pale pink marble. About it stretch swathes of blinding-green vegetation, the result of draining the life force from a two-mile radius around the grounds. We stare at it in fashion distaste. Several cheeky remarks are made, I evade Tira and her infamous mallet, and we're off.

Hired goons attack and Marron burns them to ash while Tira neatly slices them to ribbons with her spinning thread and whip. I scream and run away from the ones chasing me. In ten minutes every attacker is dead and the path to the castle is unobstructed. 

The impressively large and garishly pink doors are open and swing aside with only a light touch. We're inside and the pink theme continues without break. I wonder if I should add some color by throwing up, but I decide against it as the sorcerer makes his, repeat his, entrance. 

We're fighting this time. Actually I'm crouched behind a pillar waiting for that right spell to leave the bastard's fingers. Marron and Tira handle his lesser attacks and additional hired hands.

A stray spell, to minor to bring out the big change in me, slams into the pillar I'm hiding behind. There's a crack. Pink dust falls down upon me; then the pillar decides to join the party. I scramble away from its path, too slow, too slow. I see death.

Someone screams my name. Someone pushes me out of the way. The pillar falls. Crimson spreads across the dusty ground. I cannot find Marron. I cannot find my little brother. I cannot…

He's there. He's dead. He saved me. I'm alive, but he's dead. It's not true. It's a dream, a nightmare. It is not real.

'Marron!'

I can call his name all I want, but this time he won't come back. This black hole goes back into eternity. 

Someone else calls my name. I turn. Blood spatters across the floor. Tira's garnet eyes widen. My name falls from her mouth. Her body jerks around the spear protruding from her chest. Her lips move in silent bewilderment as she slumps into final slumber. 

She's dead. They're both dead. I cannot handle this. I don't want to see this. I want to go away. 

And I go. The whispering, sleeping darkness wells up to fulfill my wish. I fade away and It emerges. I hear Mama call my name in desperation, in horror. I wasn't supposed to let It free. I was supposed to keep It locked inside. But I cannot. I cannot deal with this misery. They're dead. They're dead because of me, because of my existence. 

The lance slices through the air straight towards my heart. I watch it knowing I have the choice to remain rooted in its path and die or dodge it and live. To either side my fellow Sorcerer Hunters battle. My younger brother, Marron, holds his own against the sorcerer's constructs with unmatched skill. Tira Misu slashes the air with her leather whip and spinning thread.

I don't dodge. The lance pierces my heart.

Everything is fine. Everything is f


End file.
